The Secret of the Unseen Treasure

theory?” Honey inquired.
    “Well,” Mart explained, “kind words are supposed to make flowers and other desirable verdure burgeon. So unkind words should make weeds atrophy and die. Right?”
    “There’s only one answer to that,” Brian commented. “Hoe-hoe-hoe!”
    “Oh!” Jim winced. “That’s awful.”
    Trixie was only half listening to the banter. Her eye had detected some movement near the hothouse and potting shed behind the cottage. She couldn’t quite make out what it was—maybe Mrs. Elliot doing some gardening there. But then a man moved into Trixie’s view. He had a can in his hand and seemed to be watering plants close to the buildings. He was dressed in a suit and tie.
    “Who’s that man?” Trixie asked, pointing at the stranger.
    “Whoever he is,” Honey observed, “he certainly isn’t dressed for gardening!”
    “And he’s sure sloppy about watering,” Mart
    said. “He’s getting more on the building than on the plants.”
    “That’s strange,” Jim added. “He’s using a red can, like the kind you use to carry gas!” Those words were taken right out of Trixie’s mouth.
    “Honey! Mart! Di!” she shouted. “Quick! Ride down to the cornfield. Tell Max!” / The three horses lunged down the hill toward the cornfield. Jim was already charging Jupe toward the potting shed. Trixie urged Susie into pursuit. Brian galloped alongside. “Not too fast downhill,” he warned.
    “That man is going to set fire to Mrs. Elliot’s property!”
    “We’re not sure of that,” Brian shouted. “He could be an exterminator or something like that.”
    Trixie shook her head emphatically. “Not dressed like that!”
    Hooves drummed and clattered down the hill. Through an opening in the trees near the bottom, Trixie glimpsed the man looking over his shoulder at them. She yelled and pointed in his direction to let him know he'd been spotted.
    Then they were on the floor of the little valley. Jupe leaped over a small brook, and his hooves gouged the earth on the drive alongside Mrs. Elliot’s cottage. Brian swerved Starlight to the right in pursuit. Trixie followed on Susie. She didn’t rein in until she swung around a corner of the barn and almost collided with the other horses. Jim was already on foot, running toward the abandoned red can, lying on its side and gurgling pungent gasoline. He set the can upright and turned quickly to scan the area around the potting shed. There was no sign of fire.
    “We scared him off,” Jim said.
    Then they heard a car roar off down the lane, concealed by trees and bushes.
    “What on earth is going on here?” Mrs. Elliot, wiping her hands on a dish towel, appeared beside Trixie. She sounded as if she didn’t know whether to be angry or worried at the way the young people had come charging onto her property. Then she smelled the gasoline, and her face twisted with fear.
    “What’s going on here?” she repeated in a trembling voice.
    Trixie shook her head. “That’s what we’d like to know.”

Clues—and More Mystery • 2

    MRS. ELLIOT was lean and strong from years of gardening. Her eyes, as blue as delphiniums, peered through thick glasses. Her deeply tanned face was framed by short, curly gray hair. At the moment, her cheeks were flushed with fear.
    “Mrs. Elliot,” Trixie said quickly, “we saw a man try to set fire to your shed.”
    Jim pointed to the gasoline can. “He was pouring gasoline on the side of the building.
    Fortunately, we scared him off before he did any real harm.”
    Mrs. Elliot looked at the climbing clematis along the wall of the shed. The leaves, wet with gasoline, were already wilting.
    “He has done real harm. Gasoline will kill the plants. Nothing will grow in that soil for years.” She looked bewildered. “But if he’d burned down my potting shed....”
    “Why would anyone do that?” Trixie asked, as Honey, Mart, and Di came riding up to the shed.
    “I’ve no idea. I just can’t believe it,” Mrs. Elliot sighed.
    “Maybe an arsonist,” Mart said. “A nut.”
    “I don’t think so,” Trixie declared.
    “Why?” Mart demanded.
    “I—I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just have a feeling....’’
    “Whatever the reason,” Jim said seriously, “I’m glad we scared him off before he lit a match. A fire might have spread to the bam and caused a lot of damage.”
    Mrs. Elliot’s eyes widened as she imagined the possible destruction. “That would be the end of my business,” she said.